Reaping The Dead
by Soaking In The Reign
Summary: The zombie apocalypse affected people all over the U.S. After almost two years, we will follow another group's perspective. Genna Wesson knows she should have died the day Ethan and Daniel found her. She also knows that it was extremely stupid to follow them. Genna is still not sure if she should stay with them or run like hell. *Same universe w/ OCs*


In this world, you can never catch a break. You can't sit down and cry. You can't catch your breath. You can't do anything other than survive until you can survive no longer.

That's the way it was for me, at least. I've heard of groups being able to settle down in one area, have plenty to eat, beds to sleep in… Lives to live. That never lasts, though. Whether it's because of the walkers or another, greedier, group of humans, simply surviving becomes the only priority.

I have been running for weeks. The closest thing to a break I've been able to scrounge up is a couple hours of sleep every now and then. Other than that, I've been constantly trekking my way through the forest; searching, hoping for shelter or water or _something_.

My throat was always bothering me with how sore it was due to the lack of water. My stomach grumbled every few minutes. If I didn't find anything soon, I'd drop right in a leaf pile and come back not-so-fresh looking.

Rid of any human threats (I think), walkers are always there to run from. About a dozen have been on my tail for I don't know how long. As I became weaker, they drew closer.

Keeping a firm grip on my knife, I whirl around and face them, finally. Might as well. I'll die anyhow. Three, the closest, are about ten feet away. I run to the left-most one, grab it by its long hair, and stab the girl in the eye. She falls to the ground and I move to the next. This one is short, so I can easily knife it from the top of its head.

I steadily make my way through the bunch. Guts and blood fly everywhere. _Before_ , I would have been utterly disgusted. I might've even passed out or puked. Now, I've gotten used to the bodily fluids of the rotten and humans, alike.

The last five are the most difficult to defeat. By then, my adrenaline is declining and I ache all over. I cut down two of them, but my movements are increasingly sloppy and tiresome. One manages to push me to the ground and lands itself atop of me, painfully twisting my ankle in the process. Its breath reeks of blood and its eye is threatening to come out of socket. It takes everything not to gag. I somehow keep the beast a forearm's length away, but the other two are coming closer and closer.

I'm screwed. I'm going to die. Great. I've survived these two goddamn years and now I'm just going to die in this stupid forest alone.

Fabulous.

Just when my shaking arm was about to lose the you-better-not-eat-my-guts war, two gunshots go off. The two walkers ahead dropped.

Out of nowhere, a knife flies above my nose and hits the still alive-ish walker square in the forehead.

Blood squirts into my face. Thankfully, I squeezed my eyes shut just in time, but the sticky blood coats my eyelashes. I wipe my face off with my sleeve and heave the extra-dead walker off of my body.

A large hand comes into my peripheral. I flinch back, but quickly realize the person is trying to help me. Not harm me.

Still, I crawl a few inches away before hauling myself up. My back aches (more so than usual) and my ankle sends jolts of pain up my leg so it's a bit of a struggle to do so, but I'm able to get up without anyone's help.

I quickly dust myself off and meet the eyes of two boys. One of them, a few years older than me, is a tall blonde that has a snide look on his face. He seems overly proud of himself. I send him a cold glare before moving to the next boy.

He seems to be a few years older than me as well. And hot damn, is he tall. Unlike the other, he has dark brown hair and an uninterested look on his face. His eyes hold a certain kindness to them, though. His face is set in such a way that it's sharp and rough around the edges, but also calm and soft. The contrast reminded me of the calm ocean waves in the evening right before a hurricane.

"Huh," the first boy smirked, "seems like you don't trust easy."

I give out an incredulous laugh. "You're kidding, right?"

The blonde raised his hands in false surrender. "I'm just saying. Kinda just saved your life a few seconds ago," he lowered his hands and stepped closer to me. I backed away, unsteadily, careful not to put too much weight on my right foot.

He saw this and grinned wider. "Or did you already forget?"

"Do you blame her," the other boy grumbles.

"Well," the blonde backs away and narrows his eyes at me, like he's studying a caged animal. "I guess not in this day and age. People are usually more… _gratuitous_."

I roll my eyes and plant a hand firmly on my hip. I'm about to retort, when the brunette interrupts.

"Guess that means she's smart, huh? Automatic trust and gratitude get people _killed_." He moved his floppy hair out of his eyes and continued. "Anyway, let's get this show on the road, Daniel."

 _Daniel_ reached out for me once again, to which I backed away. My eyebrows scrunched together. "Didn't we just go over this? Don't come near me."

"Yeah… Sorry about that, short-stack, but you're going to need to come with us."

The hand holding my knife twitches. "And why would I do that?"

The brunette stepped forward as well and suddenly, I felt even more cornered than I did with the dozen Walkers only minutes before. I raise my knife and adjust my body into a defense stance and almost trip on a root backing away. I hiss when pain surrounds my ankle again.

The brunette glares at Daniel and motions for him to back away. He holds his hands out to me as if he's trying to calm a scared animal. Right before he grabs it.

"We aren't going to hurt you. We just want to help." His (brown?) eyes glance down at my feet and ever so slowly glide back up to my eyes. I'm about to turn and attempt to run, when I see it again. That kindness in his eyes. I'm not sure if it's fake, but he looks into my eyes so deeply that it convinces me to stay. At least a few moments more.

"I want to know more about you guys before I decide anything; it _is_ my decision."

The brunette's large outstretched hands retreat. "Alright. We'll tell you more once we get back to camp and fix you up."

Going back to their camp running on little info probably wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done. But it was necessary. There was no way I would have gotten away with my ankle and their guns all but pointing at me.

At first, I refused their help at walking. Once the sun started setting, I knew I would be way too slow to actually get to their car before nightfall. Unfortunately, fucking Daniel was the one to help me, which had me internally grumbling the whole time. My nails were practically through his shirt and inserted into his shoulder's skin like a cat's. My lips curved up subtly when I saw him flinch at the injection of my claws.

The brunette, I came to find out that his name was Ethan, was a few steps in front of us. We had made our way onto a dirt road after a while and Ethan finally said we were close to the car.

"So how many people are in your group?" The awkward silence was really getting on my nerves and I needed to know just in case anyway.

I think Daniel understood, for once, that I didn't want the answer from him and actually kept his mouth shut.

"About 20," Ethan stared forward still.

"Hot damn," I whispered. Daniel's shoulders shook with a light chuckle. Oh, wait. Never mind. Daniel _can't_ keep his mouth shut.

"Never been in a big group before," that damn crooked, annoying grin again.

I laughed, indignantly, "Not one that lasted, Danny boy."

His grin turned into this ugly sneer and he looked away. Either he absolutely couldn't stand that nickname or he didn't want to believe me. I couldn't blame him either way.

"How many were you with before?"

I cringed at the glare Ethan shot me. "Um, one. But a group of fifteen before that."

"Oh."

Fucking Daniel quickly recovered and sent a huge grin. "We never got your name, short stack."

I huffed, "That's because you never asked."

A few moments of silence. "Well," Daniel prodded my arm, "What is it?"

"Uh… Genna." Daniel raised his eyebrows, but otherwise kept quiet.

We didn't talk again until we got to their dingy car. Even then it was a short "get in" and "twenty more minutes".

I don't think either of them liked me much. I thought that might be a good thing. If I wanted to leave the moment we got there, they'd be much more susceptible.

When tragedy happened in the world _before_ , people may have been scared and sad for a few moments, but they eventually got over it. Sure, it might forever be burned in their brains. The thing is—they could get away. They could deal with it in some completely separate area that had nothing to do with it so they could eventually, maybe, overcome it. At least, forget for a while. And they'd have someone or multiple someones help them along the way.

In this life, if you were screwed in the mind—oh well. You had to keep going; keep surviving. And the tragedy never moved far. It stayed in the shadows so it could jump right into the light again whenever things were seeming too hopeful or you were too happy.

I guess this pertains to myself as well as Daniel and Ethan, although they definitely got the brunt of the tragedy here.

Going from dead silence, it wasn't hard to pick out once we were close enough to their camp. We had heard the strangest, high pitched noises, which deeply worried Ethan. He began to drive as fast as possible. This didn't please me or my ankle much when we went around corners. Daniel held his hand out to almost steady me, but never actually touched me with his focus on the road and the disturbing shrieks. So I lamely jostled around like a rag doll.

Smoke could be seen rising above the trees in dark, billowing clouds. Through the rearview mirror, I could see that Ethan was keeping a straight face. His eyes were very dark and I wondered if that was a normal thing when the sun didn't shine in them. The kindness that seemed would forever be trapped in his irises had vanished.

I didn't even want to look at Daniel. Judging by how loud and fast his breathing had become beside me, he was hyperventilating. The car had become a lot more humid with panic rather than the summery weather outside.

A sharp pain in my ankle (and a duller one in my ribs from hitting the car door's handle) indicated the final corner to the camp. I heard the frantic yelling of both Daniel and Ethan as well as the incessant screams of people before I could sit up and see it for myself.

The car slammed to a stop, but thankfully I had my hands on the driver's headrest to prevent me from being in the floor and otherwise unhelpful.

Ethan and Daniel were sliding out before I knew it and I tried getting out myself, at a much slower pace.

My knife and gun waved in front of my face. I quickly took them. "I'll keep the walkers away from the car! You guys go ahead and get who you can!"

Most of the Walkers were about thirty feet out, at and through the fence of a plot that was made for carnivals and such. A few carnival tents and small rides were scattered about, but it looked like it was in the process of being built when it was abandoned. This would have been an excellent place to stay for quite some time. Based on the areas sectioned off for farming and the guarding stations, they had been.

A huge hoard of Walkers had knocked over most of the tents that I assumed were for housing. There was one that was particularly close that had recently been set alight and was rapidly being consumed by the fire. A little blonde boy was under some furniture that had toppled onto his legs. His mouth was wide and his eyes clutched tight, awaiting the flames.

I knew, even if I could run alright, by the time I got there, he'd already be burning alive. My breath caught in the back of my throat. As the flames drew nearer and tears rained down my cheeks, I looked away.

Everything was a blur after that. Partially from the tears and partially from the fog of grief.

Fires, Walkers, destruction. It was everywhere. There were people too, but few that could make it to the car or into Ethan and Daniel's care. Blood, flesh, death. It all came in flashes.

Few Walkers strayed from the playing field, but I did have to take care of a few. I was struggling and could barely put them down, but I did what I could.

A moment of clarity came when a pretty girl with long blonde hair came into view—fully human.

Ash floated around her frame and blood soaked her entire being, but she was heartbreakingly beautiful. Despite the tear tracks and distressed facial features, she seemed like a hopeful bright and calm in the seemingly never ending chaos.

"Do you need help—Can I—," her light voice cracked and strained. I ushered her into the car.

"Just stay in here! No matter what!" She nodded and looked down at her freckled hands in her lap.

Next came a pair of what I guessed were brother and sister. They both had dark skin, but the brother was slightly darker. He looked to be in his early 30s, while she was most likely a few years older than me.

"Get in the car and stay there!"

The brother yelled back to me that he would help me (at least that's what I think, the roars of the war up ahead had gotten even louder). The sister looked like she was about to drop from exhaustion so I helped her into the car.

After a while of struggling to pay attention to what was ahead of me, Daniel and Ethan finally came running, a small child in Daniel's grasp.

I yelled to the brother to start the car. A trail of rotting flesh straggled behind Daniel and Ethan. I knew by the time they got here, we'd have little time to avoid being swarmed.

I opened one of the back car doors and motioned for the blonde girl to open the passenger side.

Ethan jumped into the passenger side yelling at the black guy to start driving. I made sure Daniel and the boy were in the back before getting in myself.

The door barely shut before the car lurched back and I forward into the headrest ahead of me. I cursed loudly, but nothing could be heard over the chaos outside and the engine revving.

Once we turned around, I involuntarily looked back, my eyes going in and out of focus. The tent nearest to us was burning big and bright and the trapped little boy was nowhere to be found.


End file.
